


Make Me Catch My Breath

by Avacyn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, AU where Frigga didn't die either and also Odin doesn't feature in this because he's a shitty parent, AU where Loki didn't fake his death and nothing hurts, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 12:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avacyn/pseuds/Avacyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor reaches around and puts the wadded fabric in Loki’s mouth, and Loki’s breathing deepens as his teeth clamp down. This action has become a signal between them now – in fact, a precaution they have to take. Loki closes his eyes, aware of every inch of his naked skin. The fabric becomes damp with his spit, and Loki revels in the knowledge it gives – that Thor is going to fuck him until he screams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Catch My Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic, apart from some terrible Drarry nonsense when I was 14, and I am pretty nervous about posting it, so please be kind :) criticism and feedback is very much appreciated. 
> 
> The notion that Odin must always have an heir in Asgard is derived from the Spartan kings - Sparta operated under a diarchy, with two kings, and if one went away to war, the other had to remain in Sparta so that there would be a ruler even if the other king was killed in battle.

They’re at the feast, and Thor is a little tired from the events of his journey but in the best of spirits, drinking and cheering to endless toasts, smiling around at his friends, enjoying hot food in boundless quantities.  
Loki had stayed behind; Odin must always have an heir in Asgard, and it would be a cruelty even by his reckoning to make Thor sit out while his companions rode off to glory. Now he sits, quiet next to Frigga but smiling a little, looking up from under his brows with those earnest green eyes that make Thor’s breath catch in his throat. He eats as heartily as Thor, but his eyes flickering across the room betray his preoccupation. Anticipation prickles at Thor's skin until he finally downs one last drink and makes his excuses. He does not look across the room as he leaves. He knows Loki will follow.

Loki comes to Thor’s rooms as Thor is undressing. Thor laughs. “Brother,” he says, fondly, and stumbles out of his trousers in his haste to embrace the frost prince.  
Loki tenses and then relaxes in Thor’s arms, Thor’s stubble scratching his cheek, Thor’s hands huge and warm and steady on his back. “Hello, brother,” he says quietly, dangerously. “I felt you might want to see me.”  
Thor exhales, steps back. “Of course.” Loki smiles at him, with a flash of teeth, and something in Thor’s stomach twists and plummets. Suddenly the air seems sparse, and he struggles a little to breathe in. Loki laughs, and then hesitates, and his eyes are lingering on Thor’s mouth.  
“Did you miss me, brother?” Thor manages to say.  
“It was barely two weeks,” Loki replies, and it sounds dismissive, the words roll so easily off his tongue - but his eyes say, of course I missed you. Usually he is haughty, aloof; but sometimes with Thor he seems more coy, almost sweet. He never tires of teasing Thor like this. His interchanging sweetness and coldness has driven Thor almost mad before, and Loki does revel in Thor's frustration.

Loki's gaze is expectant, and his lips are slightly parted, and those two weeks seem to stretch, to become a lifetime since they last touched. Thor cannot contain himself. He lunges, kisses Loki fiercely; their teeth clash, Loki moans, their tongues dance and war, Thor’s hands are on Loki’s hips, pulling Loki’s body flush with his. Loki's hands twist in his hair, greedy, desperate.  
“Bed,” Loki breathes when they break apart. “It’s been an eternity.”

Thor pulls off his shirt and sits on the bed and watches Loki undress. Loki strips down quickly and with some impatience, but regardless, Thor is hard by the time Loki kneels in front of him, green eyes gazing up as his hands slide over Thor's thighs.  
Loki takes him in his mouth, hot and wet and so so tight, cheeks hollowed, tongue depressed, greedily working Thor with his mouth, moaning around Thor’s cock. "I want to fuck you," Thor manages to say after some time, and Loki pulls back and grins, his lips wet and open. He is breathing heavily. "Please," he says, in that low sweet voice, dark and sinuous as smoke. His teeth are gleaming white and sharp. "Please."

 "Bring me that," Thor gestures, "that wrap you had, that  - silken thing," and Loki laughs aloud, delighted - and then he turns and _crawls_ , the slut, to the pile of discarded clothing. Thor's mouth is wet with anticipation. He has missed this.

Loki’s hands are tied behind his back, he is bent over a heap of pillows, and Thor has licked and fingered his hole so thoroughly that Loki’s cock is dripping and he is gasping and trying not to beg for Thor to fuck him.  
“Yes,” he hisses, “use me.”  
Thor takes the other end of the scarf he used to bind Loki's wrists and balls it in his fist. Silently he reaches around and puts the wadded fabric in Loki’s mouth, and Loki’s breathing deepens as his teeth clamp down; this action is a signal – in fact, a precaution they have to take. Loki closes his eyes, aware of every inch of his naked skin. The fabric becomes damp with his spit, and Loki revels in the knowledge it gives – that Thor is going to fuck him until he screams.

With a slight pull and effort he shifts out of his body, projects himself across the room - from the door he has a better view, he likes to watch as well as feel. Thor is slicking his cock with golden oil, his other hand possessive on Loki's hip. Loki is lost in Thor, eyes fixed on Thor’s body and the way Thor’s head tilts back and his eyes fall closed as he pushes into Loki. He can feel the tight sweet burn of it, being stretched and filled so completely, and watching Thor's cock disappear into him is maddening, electrifying.  
He wants to keep this seared into his mind forever, the snap of Thor’s hips as Thor fucks him, slowly at first but soon faster and harder - Thor has never had much restraint, but Loki can take it – he moves again, so that he’s behind Thor, he can look at Thor’s ass and the small of his back as he fucks Loki with unforgiving, unapologetic force.

Loki remembers taking Thor, the last time they coupled, how hot and tight Thor was around his cock, how firm and sweet his flesh was under Loki’s hands. And with a moan his control dissolves, and he is back in the body that Thor is fucking, and harder than ever, precum spilling out of him. Thor’s fist is wrapped around his cock, strong and warm, and he remembers how it felt to fuck Thor and he moans his brother’s name, muffled through the fabric. Thor’s breathing is ragged, and he bends over, chest up against Loki’s back, skin hot and slick with sweat. Loki spits out his gag; he can never resist goading Thor, urging him on; Loki's lust for control, even when bound and bent and fucked wide open, is insatiable. “Oh God yes,” Loki gasps, “ _yes_ , take me, like an animal, rut in me til you spill, mark me and fuck me – make me yours –”  
Thor’s hand on Loki’s hip is bruising. Thor only moans, gravelly and inarticulate, but his fingers over the slick head of Loki’s cock are practised and clever and all too good at ruining Loki’s attempts at restraint. "Harder," Loki snarls, " _brother_ ," using the word with perverse delight, knowing Thor will try to fuck this cruelty out of him.

And Thor does fucks Loki, fucks him helplessly; Loki is so hot and tight and perfect and Thor can already feel the climax stirring in the pit of his stomach.  
Loki thrusts into Thor’s fist, or rather, is thrust forward by every slam of Thor’s hips; and Thor’s fingers around his shaft and Thor filling him and fucking him and moaning behind him quickly becomes too much. “Thor,” he rasps. “Fuck, Thor, fuck, I’m almost -oh fuck," he rasps, feeling his muscles tense, his hips jerk.  
And then he is almost yelling, though insensible of any sound he is making, thrusting and spilling into Thor’s fist - "you should have kept that in your mouth," Thor says hoarsely, hands holding Loki steady as he shakes, tight on his hips, bruising him, marking him. Thor does not stop, and now his breaths are catching in his throat and his moans increase and increase in pitch until he is crying out, yelling Loki’s name and cursing and yelling “brother” again as he comes inside Loki, comes as hard as he can ever remember coming, buried balls-deep in his brother - his sweet and slender and snow-white brother. 

"Are you -" Thor starts as they lie together afterwards, and Loki cuts him off.  
"Quite satisfied." He toys idly with a lock of Thor's hair, pretends not to notice when Thor shifts closer.  
Thor smiles. He knows those words are the closest he will get to praise - those words, and the stain of Loki's seed in his sheets, and the quiet huff of Loki's breath when he falls asleep still naked.  
I love you, brother, Thor thinks, but cannot say. The breath he needs to speak seems to catch in his throat, and instead he kisses Loki's hair and lets his eyes fall closed.


End file.
